


Hunt for Peace

by NikaWithSpice



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, slight mention and descriptions of blood and gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaWithSpice/pseuds/NikaWithSpice
Summary: RoyEd OTPoly Roll 1Prompt: There had been a series of murders going on in Central City, and Roy's squad is assigned to solving the case as there seems to be a use of alchemy.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38
Collections: RoyEd OTPoly 2020





	Hunt for Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Position name: Dublith
> 
> Property name: The Butcher
> 
> Prompt: There had been a series of murders going on in Central City, and Roy's squad is assigned to solving the case as there seems to be a use of alchemy.
> 
> House level: Post Brotherhood canon: Ed cannot use alchemy. Word count: 1484-2742

“Sir, there’s been another murder.”

Hawkeye drops the file on his desk but Roy is already standing, lips pursed and eyebrows nearly touching as he grabs his ignition gloves from one of his desk drawers. This makes the fifth murder in as many weeks and it’s growing more clear that the offender is only unraveling, spiraling deeper into their bloodlust as each victim is found more bloodied and dismembered than the last.

“Have you already notified the rest of the–”

“We’re just waiting on you, General Bastard,” Edward drawls from his perch against the door. Roy can see the belt over his uniform, signifying the presence of the sword gifted to him by the Xingese prince. No doubt he has a dozen knives hidden about his person, transmuted for him by Alphonse and bearing engravings that reflect Edward’s tacky fondness for gargoyles and other macabre designs.

After trading away his alchemy for his brother’s body, Edward had taken up training with dozens of weapons and he’s now a master of all blades. The blond also uses them to distract himself from boredom and can often be found flipping a knife casually or performing a number of increasingly intricate and elegant tosses and tricks involving the blades. Roy has become increasingly obsessed with watching the glint of steel spinning between Edward’s fingers, a fact that his men have noticed and tease him relentlessly about, though Roy remains unbothered by their shenanigans.

“Any chance the scum is still hanging about this time?” Roy slings his coat over his shoulder, in too much of a hurry to bother with all the fastenings. He’ll put the damned thing on in the car.

“Doubtful but I’ve made an array that may help us track them down. All you have to do is activate it.”

Roy blinks and quickly tames his expression, hiding the excitement that rises within him at the prospect of being able to try one of Edward’s arrays, finding the emotion inappropriate given the circumstances. “Let’s go then.”

The crime scene is far more gruesome than the last; the victim is missing both their eyes, heart, liver, and kidney. Their body is so mutilated that it is impossible to gather identification.

“I think I know what they’re doing,” Edward says grimly, his face cast in an expression of solemnity that Roy is unaccustomed to seeing. 

But Roy knows why. He asks though, just to be certain. “It’s human transmutation, isn’t it?”

Edward gives no answer, too intent on crouching over the poor person’s body, already sketching out an array using the person’s blood. “There’s no way they did this without slicing themself too, look at the cuts. They’ve become crazed with their quest. They must be out of their mind to believe using someone else’s body parts could possibly–” he trails off, mostly talking to himself to start with.

The rest of their squad is busy; canvassing the area, marking off the scene so it doesn’t get contaminated, collecting stray body parts and taking photographs of everything, which leaves Edward and himself by the remains.

Leaves Roy to see the trembling of Edward’s fingers as the chalk whirls and whorls on the brick wall above the body, smearing through the blood. Leaves Roy to see the trauma of his past creeping through him in the form of his muscles tensing, his body tightening with anxiety, shaking with it.

Through gritted teeth, Edward says, “Here, it’s ready for you to activate. This should light up a trail if they took the organs with them.”

The sharp clap of his hands as they meet preludes the brilliant blue blaze of his alchemy activating the array, igniting a trail of ghostly blue flames that burns down the alley in a wavering trail. Roy settles on hand on Edward’s shoulder, comfortingly. “Let’s go catch them,“ he says, and Edward gives him a stiff nod.

Almost as if they share the same mind, the same thought processes, they dash toward the flames, following the trail. Thankfully, as she always does, Hawkeye had been watching them and with a shout, the sound of stomping boots echoes behind them. Edward in motion is awe-inspiring; the thick golden strands of his hair are tugged free from his braid by the wind, cheeks flushed red with exertion, golden eyes crackling with the fire of his determination.

His focus is so intent on Edward that he catches the bend of his arm as he reaches for a knife, tossing it forward with a precision that borders on inhumane. Roy looks ahead just in time to see the blade find a home in the shoulder of a person absolutely drenched in blood. They drop a dripping basket with a howl, stumbling to their knees to gather the gruesome contents; the victim’s missing organs.

“Roy,” Edward shouts and Roy sees the glint of an activating array, sees the glint of steel as Edward throws another knife.

He claps his hands, drops to his knees, and slams his palms flat against the ground. He’ll never be as good with iron or earth as Edward or Alphonse but he does his best: the street rises up in a wave of crumbling concrete and soil, crashing into the serial killer and curving over them, sealing them into a neat little orb.

Edward skids to a stop, kicking the basket of organs away from the earthy prison, just in case they can break free from Roy’s handiwork. Another clap of Roy’s hands ignites the basket, burning the remains to soot.

“Noooo, I need them!! I need them!” the serial killer shrieks, pounding on the inside of their prison. “I have to bring him back! Don’t take him away from me! He’s all I have!”

Edward freezes, golden eyes glued to the barrier hiding the killer from them. Roy deftly joins him, sidestepping over a gory mess as he slings an arm over Edward’s shoulders, watching as Major Armstrong breaks a hole into the orb, as Havoc and Falman grab the filthy, sobbing person. Every sob seems to drive a nail into Edward’s heart, his shoulders curling in on himself, and Roy tugs him closer to his side, hiding him from the view of the rest of the squad.

“Sorry,” he pauses to clear his throat, refusing to look up. His growth, forever stunted by sharing his nutrients with his brother during his formative years, means that his head stays pressed against Roy’s chest. “I didn’t mean to freeze up on you, I know it… um. I know that’s dangerous but I’m getting better.”

“Edward,” Roy begins but he’s cut off by Hawkeye, who sends him a shooing gesture. He gives her a nod and gently turns Edward, leading him away from the still-screaming person.

Edward lets himself be led to a cute little cafe a few blocks away, on a much quieter street. He even allows himself to be seated in a quiet booth situated in the back of the cafe, away from the windows and other prying eyes. Instead of sitting on the other side of the table, Roy slides in beside Edward, upset with himself for leaving his coat in the car. Edward still hasn’t looked up, his loose hair hanging in a golden curtain around his face, hiding him from Roy. His bloody fingers clutch at the hem of his coat, covered in chalk.

Roy orders tea for both of them and a bowl of stew for Edward, a hearty meal to warm him up, but then he remembers the mess all over Edward and he urges Edward up to take him to the washroom. Somehow, Edward only has blood on his hands and so he sends him in to wash them clean. His boots are beyond help but they didn’t track filth all over the cafe’s floor, the blood either left behind on the streets they traveled or they already dried.

When Edward emerges, hands clean and dry, Roy leads him back to the table, pushing him back into the booth.

The silence falls heavy around them but Roy doesn’t find it uncomfortable and apparently neither does Edward. Slowly, the tension eases from his shoulders, his body relaxing. His hands smooth out the crumpled fabric of his over-starched coat, moving instead to fiddle with his windswept hair. Before he can stop himself, before he can think about it, he reaches out, carefully tucking Edward’s hair behind his ear but he leaves his hand–now bare of his glove–cupped over the curve of Edward’s angular jaw.

The startled gasp that leaves Edward tells Roy that he’s overstepped and he moves to pull his hand away but Edward quickly places his own hand over Roy’s, head tilting back so he can meet Roy’s intense obsidian gaze. There are drying tear tracks on his cheeks but his eyes are wide and shocked, stunned by the warmth of Roy’s hand over his skin, just as stunned as Roy is by Edward’s hand over his own.

They’re interrupted by the waitress setting their tea down on the table and Roy turns his charm on her, thanking her with a smile as she puts a steaming bowl of stew in front of Edward. As soon as the scent hits Edward’s nose, he’s chowing down, never one to turn down a free meal or any meal, for that matter. The waitress says something but Roy is too focused on Edward, watching him slowly return to life, no longer the frozen statue from earlier. He gives half a smile in her direction but she’s already gone, back behind the counter, leaving them in their quiet little bubble.

Roy sips his tea as he waits for Edward to finish eating, remaining close to Edward’s side, a silent reassurance. The appreciation wafts off of the blond in nearly-opaque waves, as well as the further relaxing of his body. Edward is almost completely thawed out, polishing off the bowl of stew with a subdued smile.

“Thanks, General,” he says, uncharacteristically quiet.

And he’s back to using Roy’s title. He much preferred the sound of his given name rolling off of Edward’s tongue. “Please Edward, it’s just the two of us here. I rather like the sound of my name coming from your lips and I believe that we’ve shared enough trauma that we can trade first names.”

Edward laughs, a lilting sound that mesmerizes Roy. Everything about Edward mesmerizes Roy. “Shared trauma? Yeah, I guess that’s true enough. We’ve definitely been through fuckin’ hell and back, haven’t we?” With a filthy hand, he runs his fingers through his hair. He’s still rattled but he’s back in control of himself now, hiding behind vulgarities and quips. “Two of a fuckin’ kind, ain’t we?”

“I find that appealing, don’t you? We’re a complementary set.”

A smile splits Edward’s face and he leans into Roy, resting his head on Roy’s shoulder with a little wiggle. For another quiet moment, they sit there. And then, Roy lifts his arm, allowing Edward to nestle in closer, drapes his arm around Edward and pulls him in close enough he can press a kiss to Edward’s forehead and then lay his head on Edward’s.

“I’m fucked all to hell, Roy,” Edward blurts out, voice muffled by Roy’s chest. “I have nightmares every time I close my eyes, my port hurts every time it rains and sometimes just because it wants to be a pain in the ass. I can’t do alchemy any more–”

“You are so much more than your alchemy, Edward, although I know it’s loss must feel as painful as a phantom limb. I am not without my own ghosts that keep me up at night,” Roy says into Edward’s hair. “And I have just the thing for aching bones and muscles.”

“That’s right, you gotta built-in heater,” Edward mumbles. Sleep is heavy in his voice and affection lodges in Roy’s throat. “That’ll probably be nice.”

Roy hums in reply, and they fall silent again, enjoying each other’s presence. Edward is a warm weight against him, a sleepy weight, and he doesn’t protest when Roy begins to card his fingers through Edward’s long hair. If anything, he absolutely melts into Roy.

Edward breaks the peace by asking, “What about that serial killer?”

“We caught them. They won’t kill anyone else.”

Edward sighs, miserably. “Yeah. But that kind of loss? They won’t ever be whole again.”

“You can still live with holes torn in your soul,” Roy whispers. “You can not only survive, you can thrive. You can flourish. You can find balms to soothe the ragged edges of the wound, even if the skin scars.”

“You always have just the right thing to say, ya know? Even when you don’t say anything at all. You give me something to fight for,” Edward says.

“And I will continue to do so, for as long as I can,” Roy presses another kiss to Edward’s head and he knows he doesn’t imagine the pleased shiver that races down Edward’s spine.

“You know all of your squad has bets on us starting to date right?”

“Yes and if we keep this quiet for the rest of this week, your brother will win the pot,” Roy laughs and Edward joins him, his shoulders shaking helplessly. “Perhaps he’ll share his spoils with us?”

“Nah, Al’ll use it all to buy treats for his new herd of cats,” Edward continues to laugh, sitting up to wipe away tears of mirth. “Are we then?”

“Are we what, Edward?” Roy smiles, drawing it out, forcing Edward to voice his thoughts.

Edward scowls at him, punching him in the stomach. “Are we dating now? Cause I dunno if you know this but we’ve had this tension for a while now.”

“Yes, darling. We’re dating now.”

Edward punches him again and when he curls over, arm protecting his stomach from another punch, but Edward grabs a fistful of his hair instead and tugs him down to his level, their lips meeting in a chaste kiss.


End file.
